


This Is Going To Make For An Interesting Expenses Claim Form

by whatthefoucault



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hotels, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 02:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: The scene before him as he rushed to the bathroom door, one pant leg still flapping awkwardly underfoot, would have to anyone else been highly out of the ordinary, but they were superheroes, after all.





	This Is Going To Make For An Interesting Expenses Claim Form

The shriek from the bathroom was at just the right pitch, coupled with the way it reverberated off of the shower tiles, such that it nearly blew out Clint’s hearing aids, and he almost did not notice the loud thump that followed.

“Katie?” he shouted from the foot of the bed, hopping out of his jeans, “what the hell? You ok?”

The scene before him as he rushed to the bathroom door, one pant leg still flapping awkwardly underfoot, would have to anyone else been highly out of the ordinary, but they were superheroes, after all.

There was Kate, short of breath but wholly unscathed, still stood soaking under the shower, bow in hand. The shower had fared less well, however: several tiles were cracked and broken, and on the shower floor lay a somewhat - but not remarkably - long-legged spider, perfectly speared by an arrow.

“I turned around to rinse my hair, and it was staring right at me,” she said, setting her bow down.

“Yikes,” said Clint, examining its fuzzy little legs. “Still, you could have just grabbed it in a tissue and put it out the window?”

“Clint, it saw me naked,” she said, unwaveringly serious. “It had to die.”

“Sure,” said Clint, scrubbing a tired hand over the back of his neck. “Whoa, hold on a sex - sec - I probably shouldn’t be admitting this, but I’ve seen you naked too.”

“Yeah, but I granted you permission first,” she reminded him, shimmying herself dry behind the soft hotel towel before slipping on one of Clint’s tshirts. “That’s the difference.”

“That’s a good difference,” he agreed, shaking off the last of his trousers and falling back into the small bed.

“Don’t think just because you paid for gas that you get to hog both of those to yourself,” she scolded him, yanking one of the pillows from beneath his head, and snuggling down.

“Hey, what do you think the odds are that it was radioactive?” he asked, reaching for the light switch by the bedside lamp, switching on the overhead lights by mistake, then the lights over the television, then the lights by the front door, before switching everything off for the night.

“Pass,” said Kate, curling an arm around his chest. “Who cares? Our superpower is cooler.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not one for scary stories, but 'tis the season, and this is honestly one of the scariest things I can think of.
> 
> Originally posted over on [tumblr](http://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com), but it seemed like an appropriate time to share it here too. Hope you enjoyed!


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